Move On Already!
by DucksLuck
Summary: Alfred is the poor little prince of a poor little country, but that doesn't stop his father, the king, from lavishing gifts upon him. When his step-siblings all die it is left all up to him to set their ghosts to rest since their father may just have been at the heart of it.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**

_I'm just a little prince and my siblings are all dead. They were killed by my Father and I swear that I'll put everyone to rest so that my Father never can. They're pigs, all of them._

**MOVE ON**

**Chapter One: Death**

I had heard it was all a lie. That everything given to us was an illusion and that love was fake. Now to say I heard it is a lie in itself because in that moment I felt it. I felt all the lies pierce my heart and break my bone to the marrow. In that moment, all the lies became real and there was nothing within my power I could do to stop it. I died a sad and lonely wretch of a man.

I had one day to accomplish my goal. Steal one item and get out. If I died, who would mourn my death? A few underlings? Perhaps, but that was less than likely. No one should depend on me. My mind is so full of turmoil I can do little, but act like a fool to cover up the nervous twitch that plagues my arms and legs. I grow more and more unstable each and every passing day. It would be foolish to think that I have a future let alone a reason to keep on breathing. Scratch that. I have one measly reason to keep living and that is to extract revenge from the greedy soul that killed my mother.

That night was pitiful. I sat in a closet crying as my mother's killer stabbed her to death on the other half of the door. Her screams curled through the air covering up my whimpers as gore filtered through the door and toward my feet. I regret her death as I regret being born from that man's filthy seed. He and I were never on best of terms after that. He might not have known, but I knew that his tears were fake and that the grey veil he wore at her funeral was nothing to him. She was nothing to him. My mother's precious life was wasted on this man.

He still treated me the same. I was the envy of all my step-siblings. He bestowed rooms of rare treasures upon me. If it was the guilt I will never know. The only reason why he got away with it was because he is the king. The king of a poor little country I couldn't care less about. I think it would do little for me to describe the state of my day to day activities. I am spoiled, yes, but that doesn't mean I like it. I hate everything he gives me. His blasted morning tea that he supposedly picks with care and loving devotion to his son reflects nothing but bad taste. His false pretenses and vague behavior drive me insane. I can't stand the ground he walks upon let alone the occasional greeting we exchange in the hallway. No, there is no way I could ever grow to love this man even if I did once before.

My thin frame is not fragile, but hardy and everything I touch easily shatters from my touch. Few playmates could withstand my energy as a child and that had somehow brought joy to my father's face. He enjoyed watching me out shine my siblings it was almost as if he was watching himself through those glassy green eyes of his. I would occasionally glance his way and find him staring dazedly in my direction thinking God knows what and ignoring my sibling's attempts to catch his attention. My step mothers were all jealous of my favor with the king and would occasionally make life hard for me. I cared little for them though. They were pigs, all of them.

Very little gains favor in my eyes. I can see little to love in the people that surround me. They are all blind to their own faults, yet see all of the darkness hidden within others. They sicken me to the core. I'm glad they all died. Their fate was written out by their actions years ago and their final death has gained favor in my eyes. I felt free when my cousins and a few of my step-siblings were killed in a mild rampage along the border. I felt a weight lift from my shoulders and fly northward to bid their souls goodbye. I can still picture their useless chatter swaying softly in the breeze fluttering by my ear and tickling my fancy just a little bit. They tell me very interesting things. Those ghosts loved to travel down memory lane and remind me of all I had yet to accomplish. They knew nothing of reality and only lived for the past even now they haven't moved on.

**The Author Speaks**

_I have a knack for sad depressing stories don't I… _

_-Duck_

_If you wish for this story to be continued please leave a review or follow this story. After finishing my current work I will then proceed to the one with the most reviews and follows._

**Characters So Far**

_Alfred Kirkland – the young prince of a small kingdom_

_Arthur Kirkland – the king of a small kingdom_

_Ghosts – Alfred's siblings were sent to the border to be killed and even though their death didn't faze him their ghosts will continue to haunt him until their deaths can be avenged._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary**

_Alfred is a prince with a terrible curse brought upon him by his own father, the king._

**MOVE ON**

**Chapter two: Inherited Evil**

It's not like I loved him. I can't imagine myself ever loving him. His tall lanky frame is grim like the devil and his eyes lack the gleam that life brings. The way he walks, the way he talks is overbearing and strange unlike the lively people of the village he rules. He is nasty and unhygienic vouching for baths that come infrequently. Green eyes that only search for money and hair that hates gravity. Still, for all he is worth, I loved him.

I loved him. I loved him more than the nasty way he talked and the slow and crooked way he walked. Everyday I would look to find his eyes reflecting the glimmer in mine and dine with him just to gain a bit more of his time. That small little bit of me is now gone taken away by the very person I loved because of the person he loved less.

The blood from that night still haunts my dreams bleeding through the door and into my soul coating me in lies. I try to pull them away, but already they have stained me black with the blood that runs inside. No matter how hard I try the death of my mother will haunt me for the rest of my life because the person I loved was killed by the person I loved less.

Am I responsible for her death? It is hard to say when you are a child hard pressed for answers. The defining moment when her death was inevitable is crystal clear in my mind and I can only blame myself for saying such foolish words to the man who held our worlds in his hand.

I love mother more than words can express. She was the epitome of beauty and not only that she was kind, caring, and well befitting of the title empress. Her long raven hair shone with a soft radiant glow that resembled the moonlight that streams through church windows. She gave hope to everyone she touched and her smile kissed the hearts of many. I am only a weak reflection of her image as I have inherited too much of my father.

My hair is a golden lion just like his with an unruly preference of its own. Unwilling to cooperate with any touch, it defies logic to stand proud even with all the hours I spend to restrain its noticeable quality. The bright smile that flashes like daggers on his face is now plastered on mine hindering my capability to make friends. I am doomed by the curse of his existence.

**The Author Speaks**

_Thank you so much for reading to this point. If you are interested in this story please leave a review so I know you enjoyed it. _

_-Duck_

**Characters So Far**

_Alfred- cursed prince of a small kingdom_

_Arthur- king of a small kingdom_

_Native America- empress of a small kingdom_

_Ghosts- Alfred's step-siblings killed by their father_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary**

_Alfred recounts the day when his destiny was changed_

**MOVE ON**

**Chapter Three: The Demon's Blood**

On the morning of my eighth birthday, I awoke to the rustling and the pull of curtains. I struggled for a moment against the light, but eventually I surrendered to the soft whispers of a kindly voice calling my name.

"Alfred my darling," it whispered.

I opened my heavy blue eyes to see my mother sitting at the edge of my bed. The sky blue fabric of her nightgown made her tanned skin seem like the warmest sun and I immediately snuggled into her bossom. Searching for the slow steady beat of her heart, I bid her a warm and blessed morning because our culture called for it, but then I kissed her cheek simply because I loved her. I loved her with all my heart. Even though I was cursed to have my father's appearance, I still believed that within me lay the golden gleam of my mother's love. I tried so hard to smile in earnest at even the most undeserving. If our appearances didn't match then in the least I wanted our personalities to have the same human gleam.

We went about our daily routine and when the time came for us to part ways I stood there unmoving. It always broke my heart to see her taken from me like she didn't belong in my world. She would be ushered away by special maids to the eastern wing where the harem spent most of their days. My father was a cruel man for ever thinking he needed other women to fill his barren soul. Her love was certainly more than he ever deserved.

Today was different. She bent down to meet me face to face, reaching out I could see the bare trembling of her hand as she caressed my face. It shocked me to see her doing this. She should have remind me to be good and then have been on her way blowing a single kiss before finally disappearing down the adjoining corridor.

I wanted to ask her what she was doing, but before I could she did what I had been expecting her to do. She stood up suddenly and pulled her hand away from mine before telling me that I was a good boy and knew what to do. The slight adjustments she made to her dress showed signs of discomfort. I knotted my brows in confusion. I wanted an answer for this strange behavior it was too out of the ordinary. I didn't have time to ask though. As soon as I opened my mouth she had disappeared into the adjoining corridor, but not before she had assured me that she loved me more than anything in the world.

"Mother," I should have asked, "why have you been crying?" Her rosy hued eyes looked so stricken and the dryness of her lips had me guessing that something was wrong. I might never have an answer, but I have one good guess and the culprit had dinner planned for me that night.

**The Author Speaks**

_Thank you for reading this far into the story. If you liked it please favorite or review. All your support helps make sure that this project is continued._

_Thanks again,_

_-Duck_

**Characters So Far**

_Alfred- the cursed prince of a small kingdom_

_Arthur- the king of a small kingdom_

_Native America- the empress of a small kingdom_

_Ghosts- Alfred's step siblings and cousins_


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